


That's Okay 'Cause So Are You

by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Community: daily_deviant, Finger Sucking, Hand Jobs, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Horny Teenagers, M/M, POV Harry Potter, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23893972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/pseuds/lq_traintracks
Summary: Because they’re a couple of dumb, traumatised, super horny teenagers. And also Draco has a thing for Harry’s hands.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 76
Kudos: 733
Collections: Daily Deviant





	That's Okay 'Cause So Are You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Daily Deviant's April 2020 theme of quirofilia: sexual attraction to and arousal from hands. The title comes from Nirvana’s ‘Lithium’ because see summary. ;P

His hands grab you in the dark of the hallway, and for a moment you think it’s going to be a fight. It is Malfoy after all. You grapple with him, and when he tries to shove your back into the wall, you flip him, wedging his body against the stone instead, your wand already in your hand and pressing under his chin.

“Yeah?” he says, breathlessly. “If that’s how you want it, Potter.” But then he’s unfastening his trousers. Even in the low light from a far-off sconce, you see the heat in his eyes, the urgency. 

For no good reason you let the tip of your wand dig into the soft spot under his jaw (it’s a revelation that Draco Malfoy has any soft spots). 

He shudders, aroused. “Get your big, stupid hand around my cock.”

You’d been on your way from the bathroom back to bed. You’d been half sleepwalking. But now...

Your wand clatters to the ground, and you shove his pants down just far enough to grab his dick. He inhales sharply at your touch and breathes, “You always do as I say. Don’t you?”

Fire leaps into the hollow of your chest. He must see it in your eyes, because he gives an arrogant little laugh, hushed, like a secret between you. Merlin, you can’t stand him. Nothing has changed since you came back to Hogwarts this year. Absolutely nothing. You shove his shoulder and spin him to face the wall so you don’t have to see him smirking at you like that. He drags your hand down between his legs again, unperturbed by the change in position or the rough way you’re handling him. You can be as rough with each other as you want, as long as you’re quiet. It’s the middle of the night, but it’s a public hallway for Merlin’s sake. Any of the other eighth years could wander out and find you with him like this. It seems Malfoy’s getting bolder with where he decides he wants you.

Which is, enragingly, not a problem. Your cock is as hard as a ramrod, aching as you push up against his backside. Malfoy braces on the wall, and then dips his head and watches as you start to wank him off. He’s breathing like he’s been running, already so worked up. You stop the smooth, practised motion of your wrist to take a moment and weigh his pretty cock on your fingers, its soft skin hot to the touch. He gives a little whine, and you close your hand around him again. 

It’s a bit of a stroke and a bit of a tug, just how you’ve learned Malfoy likes it. He watches the head of his cock push through your fist and then sighs, “You have a new callus.” He reaches down and traces his finger over the spot where it’s touching him….on the edge of the pad beneath your index finger.

It’s true. You got it playing Slytherin last week, gripping your broom so tight you were almost surprised it didn’t snap in half, the sweat inside your leather glove rubbing a raw place that’s now toughened up. Malfoy had made it a particularly long match, coming between you and the Snitch over and over again until finally you beat him to it and wrested the win from his fingers.

You’ve unintentionally sped up, remembering it, and he breathes, “Oh fuck, like that.” His hand drifts, fingertips ghosting over your knuckles, riding the motion. For whatever reason, he does this… touching your fist while you give him a hand job. He strokes your wrist, and the small muscles there jump against his touch. He closes his fingers around yours, and you block out any whisper of a notion about how cooperative, how naked, that feels. 

On a whim you run your other hand up under the front of his shirt and pinch his nipple. He lets go of you to brace both hands hard against the wall, letting out a long groan. He presses into your fingers, arching uncontrollably, and your cock fucking _throbs_ against his tight, little arse.

“Be quiet,” you say, though the noise he just made nearly made you come. “They’ll bloody catch us.”

Malfoy’s erratic breathing hiccups, and he says, “Put your fingers in me.” Like he didn’t hear, or he doesn’t care. Or he likes the idea of it… getting caught. 

His underwear are only pulled halfway down, so you work them past his bum, baring him completely. It makes you feel weak and fierce, sort of miserable-hot and angry and… _hungry_ for him. You want to kneel and use your tongue on the small, soft pucker of him. You want to bury your face in him and wank yourself raw. He may be the biggest git you’ve ever known, but Merlin, he’s got a fucking fantastic arse.

When you slip your fingers into the warm crease, you find him lubed up already, and two fingers sink inside him without a problem. Merlin, he _prepped_ himself for you. He’s warm and slippery, and you fuck him like that, until he’s shaking between your body and the wall, ready to come in the palm of your hand. Unrelenting, you make him do it. He clamps down a moment too late on the cry that comes from his mouth. He turns his head, pressing his face into the side of your neck to muffle his own pleasure. His warm breaths shiver out in hard little exhalations while his cock pulses in your hand. You get goosebumps from his face against your neck. It’s everything you can do not to turn your head and slip your tongue into his panting mouth.

You pull your fingers out of his arse, so ready to plunge your cock in there you _hurt_. Bloody hell, who does this? Who defeats a dark wizard and then a few months later takes up with one of that wizard’s followers?

Apparently you do. Apparently it’s all you can fucking think about. Merlin knows you can’t think about any of the rest of it.

“Fuck you, Draco,” you feel yourself saying. It hurts your throat.

But he’s turning around, and his pupils are blown wide with his lust. He says, “Yeah, Potter, you want to fuck me, don’t you?” He sinks to his knees, making you shuffle back a bit, and while he slips your flies open, he blinks his glazed eyes up at you and asks, “How about my mouth? You want to fuck that?” He laughs when your dick comes out of your trousers nearly standing straight up, despite its heft. “Why yes, you do.” Then he puts it in his mouth, and you close your eyes tight on how quickly he’s going to make you lose it.

He must have pulled his wand, because he lifts his mouth to whisper a cleaning charm, which you feel through the tips of your fingers, and then his graceful hands are on yours and guiding them to his head. You cup his face as he goes down on you and, with gentle pressure, you start to move him on your cock. He groans, eyes rolling shut. His hands move over yours, mapping your knuckles, the thick veins beneath the skin, the flex of your wrists. He blinks his eyes open to look up at you, and you watch each other as your cock slides in and out of his mouth. He tilts his head slightly, his loose hair falling over his forehead as he lays his cheek on your palm. And then he takes your hand and moves it so that you’re grasping your own cock. He sucks off enough that he can maneuver two of your fingers down the length. And he takes it all, your fingers and your cock, into his mouth again.

“ _Christ_.” 

He moves on you, and it rolls through your whole body, up your thighs, shooting into him. It drips down his chin, and he moans. It hits you so hard you lose track of where your body is in space, how gravity works, everything but the feel of him sucking you.

He lifts his mouth, wipes it with the back of his hand, and you stare down at him in post-orgasmic disbelief. You wipe your own hand on your trousers, but the other still cups his jaw. He moves his lips so that he leaves a soft kiss against your palm… and then bites the pad of flesh beneath your thumb hard enough that you jerk your hand away. He gives a soft laugh. 

He stands, and you put your flaccid dicks away in the aftermath. He steals glances of you… of how you handle yourself, how your fingers work.

It turns awkward, neither of you knowing what to say, how to leave things. You know he wants to make some rude remark, to disparage you and maintain some level of power over this. You almost want him to have it. It makes things easier, somehow, when he’s a dick to you. You can still feel the shape of his sharp cheekbone lain against your palm, like some sort of temporary truce. Like he trusted you.

“See you in Defence tomorrow?” he says.

You blink. “Yeah. I suppose.”

He snorts. “You suppose? Planning to skive off then? That’s not very Saviourish of you.”

“I’ll be there, Malfoy.”

He sighs. “Good,” he says, and for a moment you think he means it. Then he adds, “Because I’m going to fucking _waste_ you in there.”

You wordlessly Summon your wand back into your hand. “You can try.”

He casts a smirk at you, and it doesn’t look one hundred per cent malicious. Hell, it’s maybe not even half. He looks, in fact, like he may want to have another go with you right here and right now, no duelling required.

“Goodnight, Potter,” he says, pushing off the wall where you realise you’ve instinctively sort of pinned him with your body. His chest brushes yours, his breath warm on your face as he passes you. Your cock responds. Fuck, it’s so stupid, so easy for him.

You watch him disappear into the shadows, sneaking back into the Slytherin dorms, which are just across the hallway from Gryffindor now. It would be so easy to grab your cloak and follow him (you figured out their password weeks ago). So easy to slip into his bed and have him between the sheets, in the dark, so quietly it aches.

“Fuck,” you say to the waning sconce. And you take yourself back to bed where you know you won’t sleep, won’t even close your eyes till maybe dawn. Because maybe you’re watching his dot on your map, or maybe you’re replaying what just happened in your head (and having a slow wank to it), or maybe you’re looking forward to Defence for reasons you’d rather not speculate on.

You wonder if he’s lying awake as well. With your hand around your cock, you think of him. His eyes in the dark. His mouth, taking you. You think about him. And you don’t even come. You fall asleep that way, Malfoy in your head, and your big, stupid hand around your cock.


End file.
